CORNHOLE JUNCTION
by Rusty
Copyright © 2001 Shawn D. Smith
Anyone who’s anybody travels through it. Even if you’re nobody, you still do anyway. Everyone has to; Cornwall Junction is the only place that links all the small towns in this area together. It’s a total pain in the butt, takes twice as long as it should to get anywhere, and it’s confusing as hell.
Five twisting county roads, two of them tarred, sorta meet up in the same place. I say sorta because there’s a lopsided ‘Y’ intersection that meets up near an offset ‘T’ that angles in on a curve. Smack dab in the middle of nowhere. No signs with anything but just the road letters.
Confused? The tourists sure are. Good lake country brings a lot of them to the area. They all stop to wrestle with a map. There’s its name and a dot, but it ain’t no town -- and the map will say they’re right at Cornwall Junction.
Why even mention this whole mess? Because late this summer somebody bought the old Cornwall homestead that sits right there. I pass through every day going to work. The 'FOR SALE' sign sure didn’t last long. Soon, the abandoned orchard got pruned. The overgrown pastures got tilled, cover-cropped quick with buckwheat, and tilled again. Whoever bought it was prepping the soil, serious about raising crops on it next spring.
I knew that for sure when these two guys I’d never seen before showed up at a township meeting. I just about shit my pants when this pair of burly, bushy-bearded, big-ass guys walked into the community hall! Brothers I think. Maybe cousins, I dunno; they sure looked a lot alike, a little different. They were both so damn handsome that my body chemistry got totally screwed up in three seconds flat! It felt like I was having a heart attack, and was certain if I stood up to greet them, I’d fall over. So I just sat there, my head spinning, hanging onto the chair seat with all my might to keep from flopping around like a fish in the bottom of a boat. Oh Jeezus, Woof!
I overheard their names; Dale and Frank. They were asking the board about permits to build and run a fresh produce shack right there at the junction. Perfect spot to cash-in on all the local and tourist traffic going through. They were smart! Hell, you could sell enough sweet-corn on July Fourth weekend alone to pay for the shack first season running. Plus, folks just stopping for directions would guarantee some business in itself.
The gavel banged the Call To Order. They sat on metal folding chairs in the row right in front of me, which was just perfect. I could ogle them both without being too obvious! I’d already forgot which was which -- but both had thick, tanned, really hairy necks. One musta been at least five years older ‘cuz he was balder, and his neck and the chops of his bristly beard were grizzled with gray. That alone was enough to give me a fuckin’ boner! Then the younger one leaned forward, his T-shirt pulled up, and I am falling hopelessly into the furry crack of his ass. Good thing I had the meeting minutes to cover my lap with because I got one hell of a lumpy!
I strained and fidgeted through the rest of the meeting, craning my neck trying to get a good look at their hairy paws. Wasn’t till one scratched his head, the other leaned back and clasped his big mitts behind his noodle that I verified no trace of wedding rings on either of them. That don’t mean nothing though, the way people shack up these days. But enough to keep me unhinged. It seemed to take forever until we got to their variance and building permit, which sailed through without question.
It ain’t printed on the agenda, but the last action item of every township meeting is ‘Go Have Some Beers.’ We always go to Duff’s Stagger-Inn which is the only bar in our little town anyway. That fucking Mr. Chairman, always the ambassador, rushed up to them afterwards and made the invitation. What an asshole! He cut in just when I was trying to work up the nerve to introduce myself and ask them to join us. He also slapped a ten-spot on the counter as soon as we got there, crushing any hope of me trying to bribe their attention by offering to buy. I stood there like a dork, eventually wedging my way between the two, trying to worm into the conversation. It seemed everything I did say sounded really stupid; a sure indication that I liked these burly guys something awful.
They were both boisterous men; loved to talk and gestured wildly, and jeeze, sometimes the thick fur on their bare forearms brushed against mine when they did! The sensation felt electric against my skin, about as subtle as getting nailed with a cattle-prod from both sides. I don’t get much action around here -- and heck that hardly even counts -- but still, this was the closest thing to manhandling I’d had in months! When the older grizzly one, Dale, slapped me on the back and slung his arm around my shoulder during a toast to becoming part of Webster township, my knees nearly buckled out beneath me.
My head was still spinning when the younger one, Frank, snagged me by a belt-loop and yanked me over to a bar stool. We talked about mundane things; work and farming and fishing. Guy stuff. The beer just kept flowing. I’m going bonkers again, Frank’s long, bushy beard went right down into the thick, golden brown chest hair curling out of his v-neck tee. My brain was getting severely tangled up in all that fur, and that made it hard for me to even HEAR what he was saying. To complicate things, his knee kept brushing my against my thigh, and his big brown eyes are as adorable as a cow’s. I couldn’t even see straight at this point. Then I felt something warm against my back, and Dale has joined us. He plants a paw on my shoulder, and I feel his belly bumping up against me whenever he laughs, which is alot. I am in heaven!
Our burgers would be up any minute, so I excused myself to the pisser. Dale lumbered in just as I zipped up. He flattened against the wall and sucked his gut in as I passed him, so I could get through. The bathroom was that small, and he was that big. He suddenly exhaled and his soft, warm belly pinned me against the wall, locking me in place. Oh Jeeze!
He grinned. “Ya havin’ fun?” he asked.
I was totally flipping out, but nonchalantly said, “Oh, well... Yah, sure...”
“Well good!” he said heartily. He suddenly leaned into me, his whiskers skritching mine, like he was gonna tell me a secret. He whispered in my ear; “Frankie thinks you’re swell, ya know...” He took a deep breath and allowed me to pass. I drifted out the door, and floated back into the barroom.
The rest got kinda foggy, another beer with the burgers and two more for the road -- and it was just us three bearded guys left, joking around, just cracking each other up. Everyone else had since gone, it was a week-night and they bagged-in early. We were pretty buzzed, and I know Max the barkeep’s pointed look when he’s ready to close. So I said, “Okay, let’s finish up, it’s time to go.”
The neon beer signs clicked off soon as we got to our trucks. I heard the splatter of Dale just pissing right there in the parking lot, then he got in and fired up the engine. Frank paused before opening his door. He sloshed against me, stepping on my toes, and burped. In an eerie sort of deja-vu, his bushy beard whispers in my ear; “Dale, he likes ya, ya know... He sez yer welcome to come visit anytime ya wanna.”
They skidded off in a spurt of gravel, tooting the horn. I just stood there in the darkness, totally unsure of what had just happened. It all seemed unreal, like a million years ago since the town meeting. I was mumbling aloud, a bad habit I’ve gotten into. I kept telling myself; “Don’t you go confusing guys just being friendly with anything more than that. ESPECIALLY after a few brews. They’re just being neighborly, that’s all.”
But you’re damn right, I had my pants down around my ankles as soon as I got home and in the door! I had to beat my drunken pecker senseless to get it to cum, but you better believe I jacked off thinking about him. Them. Both... OH MY GAWD, BOTH! I wanked my morning piss hard-on too, first thing on waking, trying to get them out of my system. It didn’t help much. Another dirty sock got sopped with cum; another in a crunchy pile beside the bed which just kept growing with each passing day.
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I couldn’t get ‘em outta my mind. They only live about two miles from me, and I gotta go by their place each day to work at the service station and back. But I was too scared to just drop in. Shit. Two weeks had already passed and I was just being stupid, always going by real slow, hoping to see ‘em coming down the drive, out in the fields, or checking their mailbox. I’m acting like a stalker-pervert for gawd’s sake! I prayed I might just run into them somewhere around the county, but didn’t. Each passing day just got stupider. I’m forty-two years old, I’ve got the spine of a worm, and I think I’ve got a severe crush on these two big guys I’d only met once.
Out of the blue one day at the station, I felt a tug on my boot. Then someone grabbed my ankles! Me and the roller-dolly suddenly got yanked out from under the car I was working on. There was Dale towering over me! He squatted right down on top of me, pinning me in place.
“Where ya been, buddy?” he demanded, “Huh?”
He leaned forward, eyeballing me intensely. Suddenly reaching down, he yanked a single whisker right out of my beard with a snap of his wrist. Ouch! He examined it closely, noting with a toss. “It was a gray one anyways.” Then he repeated, “Where ya been? Huh, Grease-ball?” His crotch was only inches away from my snout and I swear I can smell dirty farmer cock packed in those overalls. I couldn’t even answer, I was on overload!
He started bouncing his heft up and down on me like a big, hairy kid in a Jolly-Jumper. “When ya com-in’ O-ver?” he chanted in a sing-song voice, “When ya com-in’ O-ver?”
I had to struggle to get a “Knock-It-Off-Already!” out in staccato breaths between bounces.
“Tonight then. Good!” he proclaimed. “We’re having you for supper. Right after work. Okay?” He got up, grabbed me by the boots, and shoved me right back under the car.
Gosh! I was just a wreck the rest of the day. My ankles wouldn’t stop tingling from where he grabbed me! I am trying to be calm. I’ve only been asked for dinner by some neighbors down the road, but you’d think I had a date. It’s 6:01 p.m. I’ve locked up, and no matter how many times I Boraxo my hands, they’re still greasy. I look in the mirror trying to comb my unruly beard into place with my fingers. I raise my arm, sniff my pit, and I smell like a gorilla. I conclude I’m not gonna be in my best form.
I was just nervous as hell. I drove there slowly, trying to get a grip on my composure. I’d grabbed some fruit pies from the snack-rack before leaving the station, not wanting to arrive empty handed. As a mature adult you ought to bring a decent bottle of wine for your hosts and should spend at least six bucks on it, don’t ya think? And there I am with these stupid fruit-pies on the damn truck seat! It's too late now though, I’m almost there. A big, snarly, brown psycho-dog attacks my tires as I bounce up their rutted driveway. It slobbers on the side mirror trying to chew it off, tries to bite the door when I stopped in the yard and cracked it open. “Nice puppy!”
Dale and Frank appeared on the front porch. Dale hollered at the dog, Fozzie, who instantly turned into a tail-wagging love-me pup that escorted me to the house. I ascended the steps and offered the fruit pies to Dale. He graciously thanked me, then promptly tossed them out into the yard! Fozzie dashed after them, ripping into the wrappers. I soon knew exactly how that felt.
Dale suddenly grabbed me and tore open my shirt! His bristly, grizzled beard crushed into mine as he clenched his furry arms around me and started tonguing me. Then I feel Frank’s wooly whiskers on my neck and he’s whispering dirty, nasty things in my ear from behind. He says he can tell I’m the kind of guy that puts out easy. His hands encircle my waist, he undoes my belt and pushes my pants to my ankles! I’m getting it from both sides at once. Dale’s rough hands feel up my belly, tug on my nipples -- Frank’s slide into my underpants, touching me down there, making me stiffen with each squeeze of my manhood. Right there on the front porch, for chrissakes!
Dale’s undone his fly and I feel his stiff, thick cock pressing against my hip. He pulls my hand down onto it, he makes me touch it. It feels so hot, like it’s burning the palm of my hand. He’s still kissing me, biting my lips. He’s asking, “Is this what you wanted, huh? Ya came here for this, din’cha?” Then Frank takes my other hand, wraps my fist around his raging bone too. They both feel identical as I slide the warm tubes of skin over their knobs, cup their furry nut bags in my mitt.
Each planted their hot tongues on my neck and slowly crouched in unison. A warm, damp trail worked its way down my chest and belly, down the fur on my shoulders and back -- and as Dale’s wet mouth enveloped my cock, Frank’s soft beard tickled down my crack until his hot tongue lapped its way up into my hole. Uff-da! I am only one minute into this and I am ready to cum! Dale senses it, pauses, and tells Frank to ease off too. I lose the edge, regain my composure, and then they’re right back on me. Frank’s tongue snakes up my hole again as Dale’s muzzle slithers and sucks right down to the root of my cock. They lap me right up to the brink all over again! I squirmed and jumped off to the side to get away from them, stood there with my fists clenched and my dick throbbing. I’m doing multiplication tables in my head to keep from shooting. Wow!
“Jeeze Frankie, he’s a sensitive one, ain’t he? Told ya he was,” Dale remarked. They walked over to the porch swing and started shucking their clothes onto it. Gawd what built, handsome men they were when they stripped down! Pretty damn husky to put it nicely, but they worked hard every day, and both carried it very well. Hairy all over, like me, right down to their big toes.
“Oh no!” Dale hollered when I bent down to untie my boots. Dashing over, he planted a stomp of his bare foot between my legs. He pinned me right there, my jeans hopelessly tangled. His furry barrel chest and belly crushed into mine as he wrapped those big arms around me again. He whispers in my ear; “Frankie thinks you need a beer to get ya to loosen up.”
From over Dale’s shoulder, I saw Frank stroll over to the corner of the porch while he’s jacking his boner and whistling. There’s a brown bottle of beer sitting on the railing, there in the sun. It’s an Indian Summer day, and when Frank steps behind me and rolls the bottle on my back, I’m confused, its warm. I heard the cap come off with a ‘Pssst!’ and then Frank says “Hey Russ, look...”
I turned my head to the side. He clamped his thumb over the top, and shook it like all hell –- and, oh my gawd -- pressed the mouth of the bottle and his thumb right up against my bunghole! It’s a good thing Dale was holding onto me. Warm beer foamed up my ass when Frank let it pop -- and then suddenly his stiff cock squishes deep up into me! Oh, Jeezus!
Frank grabbed my hips and started screwing me good! Beer slop is running down my legs, soaking my socks and into my boots. Thick cock is burning right up my ass. I am seeing STARS for chrissakes and I feel like a fuckin’ WHORE! And it don’t stop. Frank’s hot meat just keeps squishing deeper into me. Dale’s jacking my dick, nuzzling my ear, and saying all sorts of filthy shit. He’s telling me how bad I need to get screwed like this, how he’s gonna take turns on my hairy ass after Frankie’s done with me, how I’m gonna get so F.U.C.K.E.D. that I ain’t gonna be able to walk afterwards.
That dirty talk got Dale really turned on! He stepped back, grabbed me by the chin-whiskers and yanked my head down. He skinned his pecker back and pushed his throbbing purple cock-head right to my lips. He told me to start sucking it. He says, “Go on... slop it up Mister Good-Wrench -- cuz every fat fuckin’ inch of this is going up your horny butt!” He wrapped his fist around the thick root of it and just kept stabbing that blunt shaft into my mouth -- all while my ass was still getting pounded!
It was like they had it all planned. Dale clamped his forearm around my head and held me impaled while I felt his free hand feeling in my crack. He’s feeling Frank’s cock reaming into my hole, spreading my ass-lips. Then he spit on ‘em, and three thick, stubby fingers eased in just as Frank pulled out. He’s got me by the hole, prying open my insides. Then Frankie stands beside Dale too, and now they’re both shoving their thick cocks in my mouth at once! My gopher-cheeks feel like they’re gonna explode as they jam ‘em in. And Dale won’t let go of me until I’m squirming and choking on both!
Dale eased out and stepped behind me while Frank just kept on plugging my face. I feel Dale’s hot cockhead press into my bunghole -- and he’s barking orders as he stands there, frozen. He says he wants to hear it. He says to tell him how bad I want his bull-cock up my ass, to tell him how good it feels to get both ends nailed at once. I just gurgle and mumble on Frank’s stiff bone and that’s enough for Dale to take me. It feels like a fuckin’ bulldozer as he slams it in. I’m so glad my slobber is all over it, I feel every damn inch of it drilling in until his nuts slap against mine. He hoots out a ‘Yee-Haw!’ and just starts banging away with all his might!
My lips are burning from Frank’s persistent cock, my hole is on fire as Dale screws me as hard as he can. He hunches over me, it feels comforting when his wooly belly blankets me, when that grizzly beard nuzzles the back of my neck. You know he’s whispering filth into my ear again, making me want it more than ever.
“Gettin’ corn-holed by some big-ass farm-boy’s ain’t ya grease monkey?” And then his callused paws are down between my legs. He’s got his mitt wrapped around my cock, working it like it was a teat. The other clamps around my balls. He’s telling me he’s gonna milk me, tells me he’s gonna make me cum -- all while he's still humping on top of me.
“Git ready to feed him, Frankie!” Dale barked. Frank yanked my head back by the short-hairs and started jacking his meat right in my face. My nuts are churning with backed up cum as Dale’s hand pumps me faster, and soon he’s grunting and convulsing all over me! Frank barks, “Yeah fucker, EAT IT!” when he squirts. Hot, bitter-sweet cum explodes into my mouth. Dale hollers “Fill ‘er up!” and grunts his hot load up my ass right at the same moment. I groaned and felt my own jizz splattering all over my bare thighs as Dale jacked out every last fucking drop! I buckled and I fell to my knees the moment they pulled out of me. Beer and cum sputtered out my wet ass as I tried getting up. I blushed in total embarrassment, but those two just howled with laughter!
They pushed their clothes off, then sat on the wooden swing. When Dale patted the seat between them, I scuffled over with my pants still around my ankles, and sat between them two fur-balls. Dale reached down, pinched the end of his foreskin shut, then licked his fingers. Then those clowns started talking like I wasn’t even there.
“Well, that was fun, Frankie,” Dale concluded.
“Yup, corn-holed him good, Dale,” Frank echoed.
“Didn’t even make it past the porch...”
“Nope, sure didn’t.”
“Pretty tight, wasn’t he?”
“Yup. He don’t get it often, I bet.”
“Probably not...”
“Hmmm. What about supper?”
“Fozzie ate it! Remember?”
“Well, Russ is taking us out then. Bottom’s gotta buy.”
“Yup, that’s the rule... Bottom’s gotta buy.”
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Well, you know what they say about three guys who ride in the front seat of a pickup truck together. That was us: three cock-suckin’, butt-fuckin’ country boys on our way for burgers. I’m in the middle and I’m buying! We headed east over to Buck’s Bar near Mudbrook lake. In a gentle display of affection, they each kept a furry paw on my thighs all the way there. When we pulled up, Dale looked around the parking lot quick, then kissed me full on. My asshole sputtered when his warm tongue slid in.
“Your beard smells like ya been suckin’ dick, ya know that.” Dale said.
“Yeah, well it’s about fuckin’ time!” I replied.
“Well, Frank and me intend to keep it that way... If that’s okay with you.”
I just nodded my head. Yup, it sure was!